


Virgin Killer

by ceilingpool



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Coming In Pants, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Lance in a virgin killer sweater, M/M, Praise Kink, Virgin!Keith, a frankly ridiculous amount of blushing, that’s the whole plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 21:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20627822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceilingpool/pseuds/ceilingpool
Summary: Keith is a virgin and ready to not be and Lance is, well...“I’m a virgin killer, baby,” he says with a salacious wink. The plastic clicks when he pulls the trigger. “Bang.”





	Virgin Killer

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the amazingly kind and talented [Rango](https://rangoatemybabynsfw.tumblr.com/) for beta reading and supporting this extremely self-indulgent and thinly-veiled excuse to put Lance in a virgin killer sweater.

“Oh my god,” Hunk wheezes as Lance joins him and Pidge. “He said he was gonna do it and he did it.”

Lance grins as Pidge snorts beer into her Solo cup, and takes a sip from his own matching one that he snagged on a detour through the kitchen. “Oh, Jesus.” He pulls the cup away and stares at it before peering down into its violently blue contents. “God that is… not good. Has hunch-punch always been awful?”

“Yes, hunch-punch has always been an unholy abomination,” Pidge says. “You just forgot since you don’t have to subsist on Four Lokos and drinks made of Everclear and Kool-Aid anymore.”

He nods and takes another sip.

It’s not better, but at least the warmth from the alcohol combined with the heat of the bonfire a few feet away should keep the October chill at bay for a while.

Sip number three tastes just as bad, but goes down easier. A little.

“You know they have, like, beer?”

“Yeah, but this is already in my hand. Besides, once you get past the initial flavor it’s not so bad.” He takes another sip and valiantly tries to believe it’s the truth while Pidge watches with equal parts pity and disgust.

“Anyway, what do you guys think?” He gives them a twirl and then cocks a hip out.

“I think you’re utterly shameless is what I think,” Pidge says, then after a thoughtful pause, “You probably will get laid though.”

“Aw, pidgeon, you always know just what to say.” He narrowly resists the temptation to ruffle her hair— it’s clear she took some time to get the perfect pompadour and her suspicious eyes tell him that she’s not afraid to break a few fingers.

“Look at you though!” Lance scans her up and down, taking in the slicked back hair, dark jeans and tight black t-shirt all pulled together with a black leather jacket. “Danny Zuko eat your heart out! Girl, I’d let you _ grease _ my—”

“Do _ not,_” Pidge says, socking him in the shoulder less gently than she might’ve, “finish that sentence.”

“Alright, alright, geez.” Lance pouts and rubs his wounded shoulder. “Just saying you look hot. Got your eye on someone to take home?” He gives her an exaggerated wink.

“Yeah, Pidge.” Hunk slings a casual arm around her shoulders. He’s dressed similarly, same hair, pants, and jacket, only his undershirt is white instead of black. “You thinkin’ of going home with anyone?”

“I dunno,” she says, hip-checking him with a fond eye roll. “_Someone _ wouldn’t be Sandra Dee with me, so maybe I’ll find someone who will.”

“Yeah, ok,” Hunk says with a kiss to her temple. “Good luck finding anyone who wants to wear what amounts to a Lycra jumpsuit all night. I’ll give you ten bucks.”

“Oh yeah? You’re on.”

Lance smiles, shaking his head and takes another unfortunate sip, glancing around at the other partygoers talking, laughing, and drinking as a Monster Mash trap remix plays on someone’s Bluetooth speaker.

He knows, or at least recognizes, almost everyone; nearby, Ezor and Zethrid— dressed as what Lance has to assume is supposed to be Dr. Jekyll and Mr. (Mrs.?) Hyde— seem to be in some kind of debate with Matt Holt as Indiana Jones, complete with bullwhip and rubber snake.

Shiro’s laughter carries from across the yard where he stands dressed as a firefighter, with a pirate, a witch, someone who is _ definitely _ a furry, and, standing awkwardly with Shiro’s broad hand on his shoulder is…

“Oh…”

The _ cutest _ boy Lance has ever seen in his entire life. 

“You’re _ kidding _ me.” Before he can ask who the little stick of dynamite with Shiro is, Hunk’s exasperated voice snags his attention.

Hunk is glowering at something over Lance’s shoulder and when he turns, he sees Allura stepping out into the backyard with her own red cup in hand, thick white hair cascading over her shoulders, sleek black eye mask, and—

“Hah! Pay up sucker!”

A skintight Lycra catsuit, black and shiny. She glances around briefly before spotting the trio and heading towards them, good-naturedly rolling her eyes at Lance’s wolf-whistling.

“Damn, girl!” Lance says when she reaches them. “If I’d known you were gonna be Black Cat I would’ve come as Spider-Man ‘cause I’ve got a _ peter _ I’d like to _ park... _ in… y’know, um…”

“What’s that, Lance?” Allura says sweetly. “Please, do go on.”

“Ugh, nevermind,” Lance grumbles. “You’re supposed to like, smack me or something. I don’t _ actually _ want to be gross, geez. I’m just in it for the puns.”

Allura chuckles. “Imagine that. Chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

“Poor Lance,” Hunk laughs, even as he begrudgingly places a ten dollar bill into Pidge’s expectant palm. “Tricked into proving he’s got some decency after all.”

“Maybe on the inside,” Pidge says. “There’s nothing decent about...this.” She waves a hand up and down in his direction.

Allura tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she fully takes him in, and Lance isn’t sure if he wants to preen or cower. 

She usually has that effect on him.

“It is, ah. Well it’s… It’s certainly quite something.” Diplomatic as ever. “I’m not certain I underst—”

“Hey guys!”

The group turns to towards Shiro’s cheerful voice as the man himself approaches them, hand still on the shoulder of the mystery hottie and steering him forward.

_ Damn, speaking of black cats… _

In just a black t-shirt and leggings, it’s about the lowest effort costume possible, but with cat ears poking up from his messy black hair and eyeliner whiskers on his cheeks, Lance would give him first prize in a costume contest.

“Thanks for coming! I want you guys to meet my little brother, Keith.”

Wait, _ this _ is Keith? Lance feels betrayed. For all that Shiro has talked about him, he never _ once _ mentioned what a little dime-piece he is.

“Seriously, Shiro?” Keith huffs, shrugging off Shiro’s hand.

“Oh, please excuse me,” Shiro says with an eye roll. “This is my… younger adoptive person, Keith. He’s visiting from college upstate. Keith, this is Hunk, Katie- who goes by Pidge, Allura, and—”

“Hi, I’m Lance.” 

Keith looks at Lance’s outstretched hand, then back at his face. 

He’s got a cute rosy flush to his cheeks— maybe from alcohol or… maybe not.

Regardless, he’s not giving any indication that he’s planning on uncrossing his arms anytime soon.

“What are you even supposed to be.” He’s got some gravel to his voice that Lance finds he quite likes, bad manners or not.

Wholly unperturbed, Lance glances down at himself with a smirk and a flourish. “Who, me?”

Lance plucks at the front of what _ would _ be a perfectly reasonable, if short, sweater dress, if not for the total lack of a back or sides and the keyhole cutout in the center of his chest. The baby blue material comes around to cover his ass...sort of.

Strapped to each thigh is a holster a la Lara-Croft-tomb-raider, one with a toy pistol and one with a box of Trojan Magnums. He plucks the pistol from its holster, twirling it on his finger, stopping it when it’s pointing at Keith.

“I’m a virgin killer, baby,” he says with a salacious wink. The plastic clicks when he pulls the trigger. “Bang.”

Keith scowls as the tint in his cheeks intensifies. “Whatever.” He knocks Lance’s hand out of the way and steps around him without meeting his eyes. “I’m going to get a drink, Shiro.” He stalks past without waiting for a response.

“Sodas only, Keith!” Shiro calls after him, before leveling disapproving eyes on Lance.

Lance holsters the gun and puts his hands up. “I was just teasing! I-I really didn’t mean to upset him!” Without even thinking, his eyes cut to Keith, and to Keith’s backside, as he enters the house.

Man, with a… face… like that, upsetting Keith should be criminal.

_ “Lance.” _ The set of Shiro’s brow is distinctly unimpressed when Lance’s attention snaps back to him. Shiro sighs and pulls Lance a small ways away from the group. “He’ll be fine, he can deal with some teasing. But,” he lowers his voice and Lance leans in. “He’s nineteen, Lance. And not exactly the most, ah... _ social _.”

“Cool, I get it. Kid needs space, leave him alone. Hell, I’m twenty three and I gotta have breaks from people too. And I don’t even have to deal with student dorms.”

Lance doesn’t expect Shiro to look mildly exasperated with him. “That’s...fine, Lance. What I’m trying to say, though, is that Keith hasn’t really, um, dated much. At all. Ever. _ If you catch my drift.” _His eyes are begging Lance not to make him say it out loud.

“If I— oh. _ Oh. _ Uh, ten-four buddy, hands off the baby-faced college boy. I, _ shit, _ Shiro. I really wasn’t trying to embarrass him.”

“I know you weren’t. And that’s part of why I’m having this talk— _ trying _ to have this talk with you.” Shiro scrubs a hand down his face, and Lance is more confused than ever. “I can be a little...protective of him, but the fact is that Keith is an adult and I’m not his dad. And if he, um, _ wanted to, _” Shiro coughs. “He could do worse than you.”

Lance is flabbergasted. “Worse than… Wh- Shiro. Are you. Giving me your _ blessing? _To- to-”

“I’m _ just _ saying, Lance, that Keith can make his own decisions, and I just want you to be informed, should he make… certain decisions. And I’m positive this goes without saying, but if I get even the slightest whisper that he’s been pressured to make any _ certain decisions _…” Shiro trails off.

“They’ll never find my body, I hear you loud and clear, but like...”

Shiro seems a little more relaxed now that they’re on the same page and he’s indirectly threatened Lance with bodily harm. “What?”

“Why are you telling _ me _ this? I mean, I assume you’re not telling every dude here who’s single and likes guys about Keith’s personal life, y’know, _ just in case._”

“Yeah, no.” Shiro chuckles. “Keith would kill me if he knew I was even having this conversation once. Trying to do double duty as protective big brother and wingman isn’t easy.”

Lance chuckles. “Yeah, I can imagine. So, why me?”

Shiro scratches the back of his neck. “Well, Keith and I talk, y’know? I don’t want to share anything that he told me in confidence, but I have reason to believe he may be interested in pursuing, ah.”

“Sex? You can say sex, Shiro. It’s not like you say it three times and Ron Jeremy bursts out of your mirror.”

“Ok, fine.” Shiro chuckles. “Keith’s never really shown interest in relationships, especially with how busy school keeps him, but he thinks he’s ready for sex and I may have subtly brought your name up since I knew he’d be visiting this way.”

_ What? _

“Oh my god…”

Is this really happening? Maybe Lance stared too long at Shiro’s little brother’s ass and Shiro actually did kill him and he’s dead in a ditch somewhere, and this is the final death throes of his mind before his soul goes up or down.

“Please don’t let this go to your head.”

“Oh it is _ way _ too late for that,” Lance grins, nearly giddy. “Oh my _ god. _ You actually _ want _ me to take your little brother to pound town!”

_ “Lance.” _ Shiro’s eyes flash in warning and Lance comes back down to earth.

“Sorry, sorry. I, honestly Shiro, if it does end up getting to that point, I’ll- I’ll be good to him. You have my word.”

Shiro’s face softens. “I know you will. Now let’s get back, everyone is starting to look at us weird.”

***

The five of them shoot the shit for a little while, talking and laughing as the sky darkens; Lance finishes his drink and grabs a bottle of water from a cooler. No one mentions it or even seems to notice, but he thinks he gets an approving glance from Shiro.

Keith hasn’t been back out. Most of the partygoers are outside and Lance wants to give Keith some space, but he also wants to talk to him before the night chill sets in and encourages people inside.

Lance excuses himself to the bathroom, but not before being bombarded with shouted drink refill orders. “You guys owe me a tip or something!” Lance calls.

“Oh, I’ll give you more than just the tip!” Pidge hollers back at him amid whoops and cackles.

Inside, a few people mill around, refilling drinks and chatting, but no Keith. Well, he’s gotta be around somewhere and Lance actually does have to pee, so he heads down the hallway towards the bathroom, peeking in doors for some sign of those fuzzy cat ears or tight little—

Someone collides with Lance just as he’s closing another unsuccessful door. “Oh shit, sor— oh.”

Keith startles back from him, eyes dark and wide like he’s a deer and Lance is the scantily-clad headlights coming straight for him. The phone in his hand thumps to the carpet.

“Keith! Hey! I was just looking for you. You ok, man?”

Lance watches in real time as a flush creeps up Keith’s neck to stain his cheeks and the tips of his ears pink while he picks up his phone, checking the screen for any damage. “M’ fine,” he mumbles. “Should’ve been looking where I was going, sorry.”

“Hey no worries,” Lance says airily. “Happens to the best of us. Walking into a person definitely hurts less than a wall or like, a lamppost. Or a mailbox. Or drainage ditch. Not speaking from experience, of course.” 

There, _ that _ gets him a little crooked smile. Progress. 

“Hey, listen, I wanted to apologize for earlier. I don’t know you, and teasing you like that wasn’t cool. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, um, it’s fine. You didn’t— I mean, I know it wasn’t mean-spirited. I know I kind of overreacted so. I’m sorry too.” He holds his elbow and twists his boot in the carpet, staring at a point somewhere to the left of Lance’s elbow.

It’s so painfully shy that it makes Lance’s heart constrict. He wants to trace a thumb across that sweet blush, wants to tilt that face up until those deep, dark eyes finally meet his own, wants to be _ so good _ to him.

But he has to let Keith come to him. All Lance can do is sit still and quiet with his hand outstretched and a gentle ‘here kitty, kitty,’ and let Keith decide how close he wants to get. And maybe if Lance gets very, very lucky, Keith will let him find out if he’s as soft as he looks.

“How about this?” Lance offers his hand to Keith for a second time. “Hi, I’m Lance.”

Oh there’s a smile. Lance can feel an addiction developing. 

Keith takes it and gives a firm shake, palm soft and just a little sweaty against Lance’s own.

“Keith.”

“Nice to meet you, Keith.” He gives his hand one last squeeze before letting it drop. “I’m about to go back out to the bonfire, do you want to come?” He lets his voice drop to a conspiratorial whisper. “I heard a juicy rumor about some s’mores that are supposed to be happening, if that sweetens the pot for you.”

“Oh, uh, sure. Yeah.” If Keith’s not careful, he’s going to melt Lance with those eyes. “I’d like that.”

“Phew, thank goodness,” Lance flicks imaginary sweat from his brow. “Your brother and his friends all seem to think I’m their personal waitress and I was worried I was gonna have to carry all their drinks myself.”

***

“What do you mean you’ve never had a s’more?” Pidge demands. 

Keith’s sleeve brushes Lance’s arm as he shrugs. He’s had one Shiro-approved beer, and Lance has a suspicion that he might be playing it up just a little, but his shoulders aren’t up to his ears anymore and he keeps ‘accidentally’ leaning up against Lance’s side, so Lance isn’t complaining. Plus, Keith is warm and there’s a noticeable nip in the air, even this close to the bonfire. “I dunno, I just haven’t. I mean, it’s just marshmallows and chocolate right?”

“Oh, now you’ve done it, Keith,” Lance says.

From Keith’s other side, sharing the wooden bench with him and Lance, Allura murmurs, “You may want to brace yourself.”

“_Just _ marshmallows and ch— Hunk are you _ hearing _ this?”

“Mhm, I’m hearing it, babe.”

“You know what? No. This can’t stand. First s’more of the night goes to Keith, I wanna watch this. Lance, make the man a s’more!”

“What? Why do I have to do it, you’re standing right there!”

“Because his first one has to be the best. And no one roasts a marshmallow as good as you.”

“Fine, yeah, I’ll drink to that.” Lance’s takes a swig of his coke, setting the cup down in the grass and stretching as he stands. “C’mon, Keith.”

Lance has the absolute pleasure of watching Keith’s eyes jump to his face from where his gaze had been...elsewhere. Lance doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of seeing the blush that blooms beneath those whiskers. 

Lance has Keith hold a graham cracker in each hand, and breaks off a perfect square of chocolate to place on one of them. “Now here is where the magic starts.”

He spears a marshmallow and holds it in the fire until it catches, before bringing it up in front of Keith. “Now make a wish, and blow.”

The fire reflects in Keith’s eyes as he leans forward, never breaking eye contact as he licks his lips then takes a deep breath and blows out the flaming marshmallow.

Lance quirks an eyebrow and Keith looks away, bashful again. 

Aware of the other eyes on them, Lance pulls the charred lump of marshmallow back towards himself. “Now watch.” He slides the blackened outer layer off in one piece that he tosses into the fire, leaving behind a perfectly melted center. “Now squish it between your graham crackers and… boom! Perfect s’more.”

“Wait!” Pidge shouts before Keith can get it to his mouth. “I don’t want to miss this.” She plants herself almost directly in front of him, watching intently. “Now go.”

His teeth crunch through it and there’s a considering pause before “Oh my god…” His eyes flutter closed and the groan he lets out is positively indecent. “Thith ith tho fucking good.”

“I fucking knew it!” Pidge crows. “We got another s’more convert.”

Lance could watch Keith eat s’mores all day, but he’s pushed into servitude making them for the group. Pidge wheedles three out of him before he finally drops back down next to Keith with a s’more of his own. Keith doesn’t say anything, but his private little smile when Lance rejoins him says more than enough.

S’mores get finished, wet-naps get passed around for sticky fingers and faces, drinks get topped off and the topic of conversation turns inevitably towards the group’s unknown quantity.

“So, Keith,” Allura says kindly, “You’re in school right now, correct? Shiro has spoken of you, of course, but we’re excited to get to know you.”

Keith shifts to look at Allura, which somehow pushes him closer into Lance’s personal space.

“Oh, yeah. I’m a sophomore up at UA.”

Through a few subtle shifts, Lance ends up with Keith’s hip pressing into his thigh and Keith’s weight settled heavy into his side.

“Following in Shiro’s footsteps, huh?” Hunk says, chuckling when Keith makes a face. “Everyone here except me went there, actually, it’s a good school.”

“Yeah, it’s going pretty well. I like it there.”

“‘Going pretty well, he says’” Shiro cuts in with a scoff. “It is not ‘going pretty well.’ Keith has kept a 4.0 while taking at least twenty hours per semester, so he’s on the fast track for—”

“Oh my god, Shiro, shut up, I’m trying to talk to my friends,” Keith groans with an exaggerated eye roll, immediately ducking his head with a shy, pleased smile when everyone laughs. He clears his throat. “So, uh, what did you do instead, Hunk?”

“I went to culinary school. It’s what won me my lady love, actually. You wouldn’t know it by looking at her, but the way to Pidge’s heart is through her stomach.”

“What can I say?” Pidge says with a shrug. “He invented s’more d’oeuvres for me and I knew it was meant to be.”

“Um. S’more...d’oeuvres?”

A chorus of groans rises up and Lance leans into Keith, lips nearly brushing the shell of his ear to mutter “Oh, now you’ve done it.”

And if Lance relishes in the little shiver that gets him, well, that’s no one’s business but his own.

Hunk is more than eager to launch into a detailed explanation. “Ah, Keith. I’m so glad you asked. A s’more d’oeuvre is a culinary masterpiece consisting of stiff-whipped meringue blow-torched to a golden brown atop—”

“It’s a teeny-tiny open-faced s’more,” Pidge summarizes.

Hunk laughs and flicks her forehead. “Jerk. But yeah. If you’re ever visiting this way again, just have Shiro let me know and I’ll be sure to make you some.”

“Oh, um. That’s really nice. Thanks.”

“Sure thing, man. So what are you studying? If you say aerospace engineering, I’ll combust from how cute that is.”

“Heh, no, I’ll leave the spaceships to Shiro. I’m actually double-majoring in, um, electrical engineering and prosthetics.”

There’s a brief moment of silence in which everyone draws the same conclusion.

Holy _ shit_, that is. That is so fucking sweet that it makes Lance’s teeth ache. 

“Oh my god, that’s even _ cuter,_” Hunk groans.

Keith looks a little embarrassed but proud as everyone fawns over him.

“Yeah, I’m expecting laser-fingers any day now,” Shiro teases, wiggling the disappointingly laserless fingers of his prosthetic.

“Psh, whatever, you’re not getting _ lasers, _ Shiro. If I build you a weaponized arm, we’re talking rocket launchers and homing missiles at the very least. Oh, and thrusters that I’ll have a remote control to so I can blast you away when you’re obnoxious and overbearing.”

Keith snorts when Shiro flips him off, and bites his lip against a grin as everyone bursts out laughing.

Somehow, amid the laughter, Lance leans further into Keith and Keith leans further into Lance— and _ wow _ Keith smells good, just a hint of cologne on top of clean, warm skin that makes Lance’s mouth water just a little— and Keith’s hand drops onto Lance’s bare thigh.

It’s surprisingly bold, and high enough up his leg to be _ quite _ bold, and then Lance gets the second unexpected delight of watching Keith’s face register what he just did and snatching his hand back to fidget with his phone in his lap with that pretty blush blooming in his cheeks again.

God, he’s so fucking adorable.

Lance catches a few raised eyebrows from that little exchange and diverts, calling out to Shiro that he has some coworkers he’d be more than happy to volunteer as test dummies for when that arm comes in. He knocks his knee against Keith’s. “Now that I think about it, I don’t know that rockets and missiles will be enough. You think you’d have room for a tank in there somewhere?”

Keith laughs and nudges him back, telling him that he’ll see what he can do.

Suddenly Pidge sits up, eyes wide, and demands the time.

Keith clicks his phone on. “Um, it’s about ten til nine. Is—”

“Shit! HEY!” Pidge shouts to the whole backyard. “DISNEY HALLOWEEN MARATHON IN TEN, GET YOUR DRINKS REFILLED AND YOUR ASSES IN FRONT OF THE TELEVISION!”

Their group stands and Shiro begins to put out the fire. “Disney movie marathon?” Keith whispers to Lance.

Lance chuckles. “Yeah, I’m surprised Shiro didn’t tell you. It’s a Shirogane Halloween Party tradition that we put on the Disney channel Halloween marathon and play drinking games until we pass out.”

Everyone starts to file inside, following Pidge’s orders to refill drinks and claim a spot in the living room in front of Shiro’s massive tv. “You grab us a good spot on the couch,” Lance gestures to the wide wrap-around sectional. “I’ll grab drinks.”

The kitchen bustles with activity, people grabbing beers, liquor, and hunch-punch (poor chumps). Lance grabs two cans of soda from a cooler and heads back.

The prime real estate of the couch is filling up quick, and Lance has just enough space to squeeze between Keith and Matt, who has his arm around a girl dressed as a sexy Woody from Toy Story. He hands Keith his drink and cracks his own, cringing hard as he overhears Matt spout a terrible line asking if she has a snake in her boot, and if she’d like one.

God, what does that even _ mean? _

“So are there, like, rules to this game?” Keith asks, and Lance is more than happy to divert his attention.

“I mean it’s mostly an excuse to get drunk in the dark with a bunch of other hot twenty-somethings, so no one’s really _ enforcing _ them, but Pidge and Shiro usually tag-team going over the rules. It’s mostly just stuff like ‘drink when someone screams’ or ‘finish your drink when someone dies.’”

Keith eyes Lance’s soda can. “You’re not drinking?”

Lance smiles and holds Keith’s eyes for a beat before taking a sip as he looks at the people sprawling around the room. He smacks his lips. “Nah.”

Before Keith can respond, Shiro, Pidge atop his shoulders, steps in front of the tv where everyone can see him. “Welcome to another Shirogane Halloween party!” he says, spreading his arms wide.

He’s answered by the hoots and whistles of the people scattered about his spacious living room, those who didn’t make it onto the couch in bean bag chairs, or on the floor with blankets and pillows. Hunk managed to nab a recliner that he’ll no doubt share with Pidge when she descends.

“Alright folks. We all know how this works: a thing happens, you drink. Now Halloweentown is up first so—”

“Sorry, sorry, don’t mind me!” Allura rushes in from the hallway, her sleek catsuit folded in her arms, replaced by an adorable pink dragon onesie, complete with tail. “Sorry,” she says again, “there’s just no way I was going to wear that all night.” She glances around for a place to sit, smiling when a guy dressed as a ‘20s mobster jumps up to give her his seat on the couch.

“Hah!” Hunk points an accusatory finger up at Pidge. “Even Allura couldn’t do it! I want my ten dollars back!”

Pidge scowls. “I’ll argue with you later. For now, the movie starts in a minute and half and we have rules, so listen up. Drink every time Marnie complains, every time a commercial comes on and a child actor you don’t recognize does the Mickey ears thing with the wand…”

She continues while Shiro walks around with a bowl, collecting keys.

Done listing the rules, Pidge wraps it up saying, “Now, everyone remember to drink completely irresponsibly, there is plenty of Shirogane couch and floor space to go around. Be warned, though, that anyone caught trying to drive home drunk will be forcibly held hostage by my friend Shiro here.” She pats the red plastic firefighter helmet still perched on his head, and Shiro nods and smiles blithely, cracking his knuckles and making the room laugh.

He bends to let her climb off, and sets about turning the tv on and cutting the lights down while Pidge squishes in with Hunk.

“Let the marathon begin!” Shiro says, throwing his arms in the air before dropping into his reserved armchair.

After some ‘woo’-ing and clapping, everyone settles down and settles in.

The movie plays; Keith and Lance take obedient sips of their sodas whenever A Thing happens and someone shouts ‘drink!’

About a quarter of the way through the movie, Keith starts to squirm, squished between Lance and the arm of the couch. “Can’t get comfy?” Lance whispers.

Keith shakes his head, huffing as he shifts again within the little space he has, crammed in like sardines as they are.

“I can sit on the floor,” Lance offers. “Or…” he pats his thighs. “If you want.”

Keith hesitates, considering. “You sure you don’t mind if I…?” Keith glances down to where Lance’s sweater has inched very, _ very _ far up his legs, and immediately looks away.

Lance almost snorts. Is he sure he doesn’t mind this adorable, tight-bodied little kitty cat taking up residence on his lap?

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Keith gets situated, wiggling for a few moments to get comfortable in a way that has Lance closing his eyes and counting to ten. He eventually finds an angle that allows him to lean against Lance’s chest without blocking his view of the movie, and settles.

Lance tucks an arm around his waist, curling his hand around his hip to hold him secure. “This ok?”

“Mhm. I’m not too heavy?”

“You’re perfect,” Lance murmurs. 

It’s too dark to see the familiar rosy blush, but Lance likes to imagine it’s there all the same.

He sighs contentedly, pulling Keith just a little bit closer. Who knew the skittish, wide-eyed boy from before would end up being such a sweet, cuddly little lap cat? Lance is almost surprised Keith hasn’t started purring.

***

“Turn the flash off you moron!” someone hisses.

“Shut up, you’ll wake them!”

Ugh. The Holts.

Lance takes a moment to take stock before opening his eyes. There’s a warm heavy weight on him, hot breaths against his neck and soft hair tickling his jaw, the metal wire of a cat ear poking into him just a little. 

Keith.

They obviously fell asleep at some point— Lance remembers seeing about half of Nightmare Before Christmas, before Keith pulled the empty can from his slack hand as he started to drift.

He keeps his eyes closed for a few more moments. Maybe if he ignores them, they’ll go away.

“Yes! This is _ perfect._” 

Keith shifts and makes these sleepy-grumbly noises and noses further into Lance’s neck, breaths still deep and even. It makes something unexpected and possessive rise in his chest— Keith is vulnerable like this and Lance wants to hoard this moment jealously, just him and Keith.

Lance feels his temper start to spike. Can they just leave him alone?

“So, Shiro.” It’s Matt, clearly thinking he’s whispering a doing a terrible job of it. “When do you beat Lance into a pulp?”

“Oh please, Matt. Shiro’s a gentle giant, he wouldn’t beat anyone to a pulp. That begs the question, though, Shiro— how _ are _ you going to murder Lance? Or will you just maim him? Oh! Or ruin his reputation and destroy everything he loves? My bet is on the last one.”

He loves his friends but he’s about gonna need them to fuck off.

“I don’t plan on doing any of those things, actually,” Shiro says mildly. “Keith is an adult and Lance is a good guy. Besides, they’re just cuddling. Don’t act like you haven’t done worse on this couch.”

“Matthew! Fucking gross!”

“Yeah, Matt, gross,” Lance mutters, eyes still closed.

“Lance! Buddy! Hey! Didn’t know you were awake. How, uh, how long you been awake for?”

“Long enough,” he says coolly. He looks between Matt and Katie. “S’probably time for you two to find someone else to bother.”

The two huff but stumble off, leaving only Shiro, who’s looking at Lance with an expression he can’t quite parse.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just never heard you sound so serious before.”

Lance half-shrugs, careful not to jostle Keith. “They were— I dunno, it was just starting to feel…” He’s not sure how to explain it.

“Invasive?” Shiro offers.

“That’s actually. Yeah. That’s exactly it. Just needed them to step off a little.”

“Can’t blame you.” Shiro glances around at the party winding down around them. “You think you guys are gonna head out soon?”

“What? Well, I mean we haven’t really talked about—”

Keith chooses that moment to sit up with a wide yawn and a stretch that makes his shirt ride up, _ not _ that Lance is looking, or privately reveling in the way his thumb now brushes the soft, soft skin of his hip.

Keith blinks at him with a sleepy smile. “Hey.” His voice is all sleep rough, and wow it is Doing Things to Lance.

“Hey.” He knows his expression is stupidly soft but he can’t help it, even as acutely aware as he is that Shiro is standing _ right _ there.

It’s only when Lance’s eyes flick to Shiro that Keith seems to notice his presence. “Oh.” He glances at Lance then back to Shiro before awkwardly sliding off Lance’s lap. “Hey Shiro.”

Shiro looks endlessly amused with the both of them.

“Morning, sleepyhead. I was just asking Lance if you guys were about to head out.”

“If we- is that- I mean. Are we?” He turns those big eyes on Lance.

“I mean, you’re more than welcome to spend the night at my place, I have a guest bedroom and everything” (he resolutely ignores Shiro’s doubtful snort) “but it’s just an offer, you obviously don’t have to—”

“Yes. I want to. Go home with you. I-I mean not like _ go home _ go home, just, I’d like to go to your place ‘cause y’know, there’s still a whole bunch of people here and I’m, _ really _ tired…” Keith’s fake yawn is...unconvincing at best, but it is _ very _ cute, especially with that rosy blush. 

Lance can’t look at Shiro. 

“As long as you’re sure you don’t mind?” Keith says shyly.

“If I minded, I wouldn’t offer.” Lance nudges him and Keith smiles. “I just need to grab my keys and we can head out. You ‘bout ready?”

Keith averts his eyes when Lance stands and adjusts his skirt, the stain in his cheeks turning them even darker.

“Yeah, uh. Yeah. Just let me go grab my keys and charger and we can go.”

“Sure thing.”

Those leggings (and what’s beneath them) catch his eye again as Keith disappears down the hall, and Shiro clears his throat with a knowing smirk. Lance elbows him. 

“Shut up.”

“Aww you liiiike him,” Shiro teases, wiggling his eyebrows.

It’s too bad Lance can’t blame alcohol for the heat in his face. 

“I said shut up.”

***

The drive to Lance’s is mostly quiet, the heater churning away on full blast and Lance humming along to the radio while Keith is content to scroll on his phone. Keith’s left arm rests on the center console at an awkward angle that Lance can’t imagine is comfortable— _ oh _.

Oh fuck, that’s so cute.

Eyes on the road, Lance slowly reaches over, and tangles his fingers with Keith’s.

Keith doesn’t say anything, but from the corner of his eye, Lance can see those pink cheeks and that sweet, shy-pleased smile illuminated in the light of his phone screen. He squeezes his hand, and Keith squeezes back.

Lance’s street doesn’t have streetlights, and most of the nearby houses are dark, the subdivision too tucked away for trick-or-treaters, especially at this hour. He pulls into his driveway and cuts the ignition. “Here we are. It’s not much but it’s home.”

Keith snorts. “It’s a castle compared to the dorms.”

Lance laughs. “Can’t disagree with you there. What hall are you in?”

“Uh, Watson. East wing.”

“Oh, Keith, _ no. _ That’s not a dorm, that’s a cinderblock _ prison. _”

Keith hand tightens when he laughs. “Yeah, it’s not… they did some renovations last year so like, the water fountains work again, and most of the toilets flush but it’s...yeah.”

“Well, come on then, and let me give you the grand tour of my lavish mansion. I’m already getting cold, and both my water _ and _ electricity work. At the same time, even.”

“Oh, wow,” Keith breathes, eyes comically wide. “_Luxury._”

“You like that? Just wait ‘til you see my full-sized refrigerator.”

“What?” Keith’s jaw drops. “I’ve heard the legends, but I never thought I’d see one for myself!”

Lance bursts out laughing and Keith grins at him. 

“You’re really funny, you know that?”

Cue that shy smile. “Really?”

“Yup. It’s right there under that dark, broody exterior.”

“Wh- I am not _ broody._”

“Oh yeah? Maybe you should tell that to your face.”

“What’s wrong with my face?” Keith demands, crossing him arms over his chest.

“Nothing, nothing! It’s a great face. Just, y’know. Broody.”

Keith glowers. “Just you wait. I’ll _ show _ you broody.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance teases. “You can wreak your vengeance inside, I’m cold.”

The house is blessedly warm, and they both breathe a sigh of relief as they kick off their shoes in the front hallway.

“It’s really not that much,” Lance says as he leads Keith into the modest living room, “but it’s my own little place and it’s treated me well.”

“It’s great,” Keith says, so earnest about Lance’s little two-bed one-bath. “You own it?”

“Nah, I rent, but my landlord is a nice guy and he doesn’t skimp on home repairs, which is more than I can say for a lot of people, so I think I’ve got it pretty good.”

A bar-style countertop separates the living room from the kitchen. “Wow, you really do have a fridge.”

Lance laughs. “See? Told ya.”

Keith follows him down the single hall that branches from the living room. “Spare bedroom on the left,” he opens the door and lets Keith peek in. “Sorry, it’s a little cluttered, I mostly use it as a workout space. But the bed is comfortable and the sheets are clean.”

“Oh. Cool.”

Lance’s own bedroom is through the door on the right. It’s a little bigger, but not by much. The bed is _ definitely _ bigger. “I splurged on it a bit,” Lance admits. “The guest bed is comfy, but this bed is like sleeping on a cloud that wants to suffocate you but fears and loves you too much to follow through.”

“That makes no sense,” Keith laughs.

_ It will, _ Lance almost says. “It’s just the truth, man.”

A small linen closet further down the hall boasts a motley assortment of blankets and sleeping bags, a toolbox, a box of spare lightbulbs, and one entire shelf packed with stuffed animals. 

Keith looks at him with an amused arch to his brow. “Big fan of hatchimals and unicorn pillowpets, huh?”

“Hey, I have nieces and nephews that come visit.” Lance hip-checks him out of the way and closes the door. “What’s _ your _ excuse for knowing what a hatchimal is?”

“I worked at Target over Christmas last year. It was a nightmare.”

Lance eyes him with suspicion. “A likely story. I bet you collect them. I bet you line them up in your dorm and teach them swear words.”

“I do _ not._”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.”

At the end of the hall is the bathroom, mostly unremarkable but for the porcelain claw-foot bathtub tucked next to a standing shower with a huge rain-style shower head above.

Whatever protest Keith is about to make dies on his tongue. “Dude.”

“Heh, yeah. Mr. Henries let me do some remodeling. It wasn’t cheap, but so, _ so _ worth it. And I have hot water for _ days_.”

Keith’s eyes glaze over. “How hot?”

Lance grins and whispers, “_Scalding._”

“_Oh,_” Keith breathes. “Do you mind if- I mean, can I actually-“

He’s adorably excited, but Lance supposes that in Keith’s shoes he would be too. Hot water is a pipe dream (heh) in those dorms, and Shiro’s water pressure leaves a bit to be desired. “Sure, knock yourself out, towels are under the sink. I assume you’d like a change of clothes?”

“Is that too much trouble?”

He wants to know if it’s too much trouble. To give Lance the pleasure of seeing him walk around Lance’s home all soft and cozy in Lance’s clothes that’ll be just slightly too big for him, soft hair and skin all warm and damp from the shower…

Lance needs to get a grip.

“No trouble at all. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Lance doesn’t necessarily have a _ thing _ for cute boys wearing his clothes, but. 

He doesn’t necessarily _ not. _

He grabs a warm pair of sweats and rummages around for— aha! Lance’s favorite high school t-shirt, worn thin and soft with time. And if the collar has lost some of its elasticity and has a tendency to droop, well. It’s a very soft shirt.

“Here ya go.” Lance hands over the clothes. “If you’re taking a bath, you’ll want to let it fill for a minute before getting in, the tub is really cold before the water heats it up.”

“Oh, um. Thanks. I was just gonna use the shower, though.”

Lance shrugs with an easy smile. “That’s fine, whatever you like. I’ll be in the living room if you wanna hang out when you’re done. If not, the guest room is all yours. I’ll make sure there’s a pillow in there for you.”

“That’s— thanks. I’m not that tired yet so I’ll probably come out there.”

Lance has to turn quickly before Keith can see his smile. 

“Cool, well I’ll leave you to it.”

Lance chuckles to himself as he shucks the sweater and holsters, switching them out for a t-shirt and sweats of his own. 

Not that tired, huh?

***

“Oh, hey man. How was your...uh…”

Lance.exe has stopped working.

Keith has stepped into the living room, whisker-free and scrubbing a towel through his hair, and has foregone Lance’s choice of shirt for him entirely. His borrowed pants are slung low, _ low _on his hips, low enough to suggest that he’s not wearing anything underneath them.

Keith eyebrows raise, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Shower?” Then without warning, his expression closes off and his tone borders on clipped when he says, “It was fine. Just wanted to know where to put my towel.”

“Oh, uh. You can just... leave it in the bathroom. You good?”

“Fine.” Keith stretches as he turns to walk back down the hallway, the muscles in his back flexing and pulling taut, before he drops his arms and leaves.

That was…

That was _ weird, _ right?

Keith re-emerges, shirt _ on _ this time, and flops himself on the couch as far from Lance as possible.

“Um, hey there,” Lance tries. “You know I have, like, lots of other furniture? If you wanted?”

Keith cuts his eyes over to him through his damp bangs, but doesn’t answer. 

“You sure you’re okay, bud? Cuz… you don’t really seem okay.”

“I said I’m _ fine_.” He quickly gives Lance his back.

“You’re fine, good. That’s good… May I ask what you’re planning on doing over there on the other side of the couch while you’re busy being ‘fine’?”

“Brooding.”

“Br— are you- oh, you mother_fucker!_”

In the split second it takes Keith to turn back around with a shit-eating grin, Lance is on him, fingers delving for his armpits. “I know you’re ticklish, you emo kids always are!”

Lance digs in and Keith shrieks, laughing uncontrollably as Lance offers no mercy. “Say you’re sorry!” Lance demands.

“Ne- Never!” Keith kicks and thrashes, trying to dislodge him, but Lance has the upper hand and isn’t taking prisoners. 

“Say it!”

His hands go for Keith’s sides and he squeals, trying to buck Lance off. Weak from laughter, Keith’s hands push ineffectually at Lance’s chest. “Ok! Ok, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Lance sits back on his heels, giving Keith space to catch his breath.

Keith pants, sitting up and pushing his disheveled hair from his face. “Gotcha.”

Lance pokes him in the chest. “That was _ mean._”

Keith seems to consider this, mouth pulling and eyes turning downcast. His shirt slips to reveal a pale collarbone. “But you’ll forgive me,” he blinks those big doe eyes up at Lance through his lashes, “right?”

Keith isn’t even _ trying _ to pretend it’s not a blatant ploy, and Lance’s breath _ still _ catches.

“Fine.” Lance retreats back to his corner of the couch. “But you’re on thin ice, you little punk.”

Keith throws his legs over the arm of the couch and flops onto his back, grinning at Lance upside down. He’s so cute it shouldn’t be allowed.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

Um, excuse Lance, but _ what? _

Like. Yes?

Keith’s cheeks are rapidly filling with pink, and he looks almost as surprised with himself as Lance is, but his gaze holds steady.

“I- is that a trick question?”

Keith snorts. _ “No.” _

“I...think you are very cute,” Lance hedges. “And that’s not something I would be...opposed to, if you decided that was something you wanted to do. With me.”

Keith’s eyes narrow. His shirt droops to reveal an unexpected smattering of freckles across one shoulder.

“Did Shiro say something to you?”

Lance’s distracted eyes snap back to Keith’s. “Uh, Shiro says a lot of things to me. People who are friends do that sometimes.”

Keith doesn’t smile. He levers himself up so that he’s facing Lance head on, face drawn sharp and serious. Those intense eyes leveled on Lance just daring him to say the wrong thing.

It’s devastating.

“Tell me the truth.”

Lance sighs. “Yeah, Keith. Shiro talked to me.”

He braces for the worst but Keith just deflates, sinking back into the cushions and hugging his knees to his chest.

“How much did he tell you?” He sounds resigned.

“Not much, honestly. I got some, ah, basic information, and some vague but effective threats to my potential physical wellbeing. It was actually kind of sweet. He really cares about you.”

Keith rests his chin on his knee. “I know,” he says. “He’s done… a lot for me, more than I could ever hope to repay him for. But, sometimes I just wish he’d…”

“Butt out?”

There’s that smile. “Yeah.”

“I have _ two _ older sisters. Trust me, I know the feeling.”

Keith cringes in sympathy, and offers no resistance when Lance reaches to take his hand.

“Listen, Keith. You’re cool, and funny, and I’ve had a lot of fun just hanging out with you tonight—”

“And cute. Very cute, I think you said actually.”

Lance flicks him in the forehead. “Fine. _ And _ cute. I’m just trying to say that I’m already having fun. I know what Shiro told me, but I want to make it crystal clear that I don’t have a single expectation for how tonight's gonna go, and honestly I don’t want you to either. We can sit on the couch and snuggle, or hold hands, or even sit on opposite sides of the couch and I’ll be just as happy. If anything happens, I just want it to be because we’re both having a good time and we want to, not because of some predetermined notion of what’s ‘supposed’ to happen. Yeah?”

“Ok. Yeah. I- thanks.”

Lance reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Keith’s ear. “You’ve got nothing to thank me for.” He gets to his feet, giving Keith’s hand a squeeze before letting it drop. “I’m gonna grab something to drink, want anything?”

“A beer?” Keith smiles winningly, batting his eyelashes. 

“Very convincing, but no. Coffee, hot tea, cocoa, OJ, and water are your options.”

“Ooh, can I have cocoa? Do you have any of those tiny little marshmallows?”

Hah. Does Lance have those tiny marshmallows.

“I got you.”

Lance returns a few minutes later, two mugs in hand. Keith glances up from his phone and bursts out laughing. “I take it that one’s mine?”

Lance sets the mugs on the coffee table, one with a respectable layer of mini marshmallows on top, and the other with a preposterous amount that threatens to spill over the rim. “You can have whichever one you want.”

Keith doesn’t even deliberate before choosing. The marshmallows stick to his tongue when he pokes it into the mound of them above the rim. He chews his mouthful and goes back for more, while Lance watches and sips his own hot cocoa like an adult.

Keith looks up at him, face still buried in marshmallows. “What?”

“You look like a wild horse eating oats from the hand of a plucky schoolgirl in a Lifetime movie.”

Keith chews thoughtfully for a moment. “Maybe,” he says. “But I have more marshmallows than you.”

“I...technically cannot argue with you.”

Keith hums and takes a noisy slurp of cocoa.

Lance could entertain himself watching Keith being cute for the rest of the evening, but supposes that’s probably a less fun activity for his guest. Cutting on a movie would be an easy choice, but it feels trite and Keith deserves better. And after three Halloween movies in a row, Lance doesn’t especially feel like watching another movie either.

“Oh shit! I can’t believe I almost forgot!” He stands abruptly, startling Keith who stares at him with wide eyes. “Wait here.” He deposits his mug on the table and disappears down the hall.

Arms laden with as many sleeping bags and blankets as he can carry, he staggers through the living room and manages to open the screen door that leads to the backyard from the kitchen.

He makes it a few steps outside before dropping his armful and dashing back inside. “Shit, shit, cold feet cold feet, barefoot outside bad idea...”

Keith continues to stare.

Lance disappears back down the hall still muttering, and re-emerges shortly in fluffy pink, purple, and blue-striped socks, two more blankets in one hand and a second fluffy pair of socks in the other.

He drops a blanket over Keith’s shoulders and shoves the socks into his hands. “Put these on.”

Keith looks at the socks, taking in the rainbow paw-print pattern and the text on the bottom of the feet.

“‘Check meowt,’” he says flatly.

“Well, if you insist.” Lance gives him an exaggerated up-down glance and a wink.

“Ugh.” Keith rolls his eyes, cheeks pink.

“Put them on, I’ll be right back.” He drapes the second blanket over his own shoulders and returns to the backyard, hurriedly opening and layering the sleeping bags over the crunchy grass with the blankets piled on top.

Keith looks adorably disgruntled when Lance comes back in, toes wiggling in the paw-print socks and holding his mug close to his chest like it might shield him from whatever Lance is planning.

It will not.

Lance turns off all the lights in the house until all he can see is Keith’s silhouette on the couch, barely lit by the moonlight filtering in through the window. He grabs his mug from the table and reaches down to Keith.

“Come on.”

Keith hesitates only a moment before letting Lance pull him up and following him out the door.

The night is dark and clear, a choir of crickets chirping to fill the night. Lance settles on the blankets and pats the space next to him. Keith joins him a moment later, pulling a blanket over his lap and taking a sip from his mug.

Keith’s eyes track Lance’s to where they’re staring up at the sky.

“Wow,” Keith breathes. “You can _ really _see the stars out here.” His voice is low and soft.

“Mhmm.” Lance sets his mug in the grass. “It’s part of why I love it out here.”

He stretches out on his back, pulling a few blankets on top of himself.

“Is that why we’re out here?”

“Mm, partially. Hopefully you’ll see soon enough.”

Lance half-expects Keith to press, but he just hums thoughtfully.

A comfortable silence falls. Lance looks at the stars and watches Keith drink his hot cocoa from the corner of his eye. 

Keith drinks his hot cocoa and pretends like he’s not watching Lance pretending like he’s not watching at Keith.After a few minutes, Keith sets his mug aside and lays back next to Lance.

“I’m cold.”

“We can go back in,” Lance offers. When Keith just looks at him, he adds, “Or... you can share my blankets?”

It’s barely out of his mouth before Keith is scooting in close, adjusting until they’re layered under the same pile.

Keith is bolder in the dark, tugging Lance’s arm up so he can use his bicep as a pillow, wiggling in closer til they’re hip to hip. Lance ends up with his arm curled over Keith’s shoulder, hand palm-down in the middle of Keith’s chest. With the vast expanse of space taking up Lance’s field of vision, the steady rise and fall of Keith’s breaths beneath his hand is unexpectedly grounding.

He can feel the flutter of Keith’s heart beneath his fingertips and wonders if his own is beating that fast.

“When I was little my parents used to take me stargazing,” Keith says. “Before they— before.”

“Oh.” There’s an unhappy story lurking there Lance knows, but tonight is not the night for unhappy stories. “Do you have a favorite constellation?”

“Well,” Keith says after a beat, “the first star I ever learned was the North Star, Polaris, so I guess my favorite real constellation is Ursa Minor.”

“Your favorite ‘real’ constellation?”

When Lance’s glances at Keith, he’s wearing a soft, nostalgic smile. “Yeah. My parents loved the stars and they taught me all of the constellations, but I thought a lot of them were dumb so I made up my own. Every single one of them always started with the North Star since I knew I could always find it. Here.”

He raises his hand and points to Polaris. At first it looks like he’s just tracing out the Little Dipper, but after the fourth star of the handle he veers off and connects it to three different stars in an oblong rectangle. “I called that one The Tigress.”

“Hmm.” Lance tucks Keith in just a little closer. “I like it.”

Keith is quiet for a few moments before he says softly, “My mom had two scars on her cheeks. I- I don’t remember what they were from, but I always used to say that she looked like a tiger. Dad would tease her and say that she was so fierce that the gods were afraid she would go up there herself to make them clean their rooms and eat their vegetables so they gave her a place in the stars to appease her.”

Lance doesn’t know what to say, but Keith doesn’t seem to expect an answer.

“I don’t think it worked, though. I bet Princess Andromeda is up their right now, grumbling and eating her broccoli.”

Lance turns to press his huff of laughter into Keith’s hair. “I bet you’re right.”

But Keith’s not listening. “Lance!” he gasps, eyes huge and mouth falling open as two streaks of light shoot across the sky, neck and neck.

Nothing else happens for a few seconds, and then it’s like a cosmic dam bursts and the sky is alive with shooting stars.

Lance can’t see Keith well at this angle, but his heart pounds under his palm.

Lance doesn’t know how long they lay out there watching the meteor shower but eventually it slows, and after a few minutes go by without any activity, Keith rolls over onto his side to look down at Lance.

There’s starlight in Keith’s eyes as he blinks down at him. “That was amazing,” he whispers, like any noise louder than the singing crickets could shatter the moment around them. “Thank you, Lance.”

And before Lance can say _ you’re welcome, _ or _ don’t mention it, _ or _ you’re beautiful, _Keith’s lips are on his.

Keith’s nose is cold but his mouth is soft and warm as he presses closer so he’s half beside, half on top of Lance. Lance pulls him in tighter by the waist, and with his other hand he reaches out from the blankets to cup the side of Keith’s neck, thumb dragging along the sharp cut of his jaw.

Keith’s lips are a little chapped, and he kisses with more enthusiasm than finesse, but he’s so sweet in Lance’s arms and sweeter on his tongue when he licks his way into Lance’s mouth. Keith draws in a sharp breath at the first brush of Lance’s tongue against his, choking off a whimper when Lance draws his lower lip between gentle teeth and glides his tongue across it.

Without prompting, Keith climbs fully over Lance so that he’s straddling a thigh and letting Lance take most of his weight. He’s not especially light; he’s a compact little thing and he’s crushing Lance a bit, but his hand is warm where it’s begun to tease the hem of Lance’s shirt up and Lance will take a little breathlessness for the way Keith’s skin-hungry fingers trace over the jut of his hip and trail up his side. He was probably going to be breathless anyway.

Lance buries both hands in Keith’s hair and angles his head so he can kiss him deeper, showing Keith what he likes and humming his encouragement when Keith mirrors him, the spit-slick drag of their lips coaxing another tiny, bitten-off noise from Keith’s throat.

Not too shy to shove his hands under Lance’s clothes but worried about Lance hearing him moan?

They’ll work on that.

In the meantime, Lance will enjoy the way Keith has shifted his weight so he can get both of his hands on Lance’s skin, shoving his shirt up without ceremony to explore his body. He’s gotten so bold and Lance relishes it, letting Keith set the pace, letting him figure out what he likes.

With his hands still curled around Lance’s ribs he pulls back, pink tongue darting out to lick his shiny lips. “Is- is this okay?” He’s breathing quick and Lance can feel him fully hard against his hip, just from a little kissing and pawing.

Lance can’t consider the mess Keith might be making in his borrowed sweatpants.

“This is great, baby. Do you—”

If Lance wasn’t paying attention, if he wasn’t so tuned into Keith’s every movement, his sharp gasp might have been lost to the noise of the night. That said, there’s no way he could miss the shudder that wracks through Keith or the way his cock twitches against him.

“Oh, do you like that?” Lance’s grin is devilish, looking up at Keith hovering over him. “You like it when I call you baby?” It comes out perhaps a little more teasing than he intends; Keith ducks his head away, hair falling to obscure his flushing cheeks.

“Hey.” One of Lance’s hands strokes up and down Keith’s arm, soothing. The other gently turns Keith back to face him and tucks his inky bangs behind his ear. “I think I forgot to tell you, but this is an embarrassment- and shame-free zone. It’s actually illegal. And I only smooch law-abiding citizens, so. You’ve been warned.”

“Oh my god,” Keith snorts.

“But for real, it’s no big thing. I like using pet names, and if you like it too, then I will, and if you don’t like it, I won’t. It’s as easy as that. You just have to talk to me.”

Keith cuts his eyes away, swallowing before he says haltingly, “I...I do. Like it. Feels… I dunno. Makes me feel. Special, I guess. Sorry, that sounds stupid.”

_ Oh, Keith. _

“Keith. Look at me.”

Lance’s eyes hold Keith’s hesitant ones, serious and certain. “You _ are _ special. And wanting to feel special isn’t stupid. Not at all. And if anyone _ ever _ treats you or makes you feel like you’re not, you kick their ass to the curb, you hear me? You are _ gorgeous _, and you’re sweet, and funny, and smart, and if someone can’t see that then they don’t deserve you.”

Keith stares, and it’s Lance’s turn to feel his face heat up.

“Do you mean that?” Keith whispers.

Lance cradles Keith’s face in both hands. “Every word.”

Keith breaks Lance’s hold on him and surges down to reclaim his lips, breathing hard and fast through his nose as Lance catches up and gives as good as he gets. Keith tears away on a gasp and wrenches his shirt over his head, shoving Lance’s shirt up to his armpits and crushing their bodies back together, skin on skin.

The contact is electric. Lance moans and his hips stutter up; there’s no way Keith can’t feel him getting hard.

God, he feels good, so warm and firm— Lance buries his hands in Keith’s hair and fights to keep himself gentle.

“Oh fuck,” Keith breathes against his lips as his own hips hitch into Lance’s. “Lance, touch me. I want your hands on me.”

Well. Ask and ye shall receive.

He gives Keith’s shoulders a squeeze and drinks in the softness of his skin as his hands glide down his back, palms settling at the dip of his waist and holding him lightly as they kiss.

Keith palms up and down what he can reach of Lance’s chest and sides, wiggling against him and pressing his body in tight. It is through sheer force of will that Lance keeps his grip relatively chaste on Keith’s narrow waist.

Without warning, Keith pulls back with a huff, mouth pulled into a petulant scowl.

“I’m not gonna break, Lance. I- Stop being so careful with me and _ touch me. _ ” His hands ball into fists in Lance’s shirt. “I just- I want you to touch me how _ you _ want to. How you’d touch me if I wasn’t- if I was more experienced.”

Lance gets it. He _ is _ being more than a little cautious, in part because he likes his face the way it is and isn’t keen on it being rearranged, but mostly because he wants to make this the best experience for Keith that he can. 

Lance hadn’t wanted to be treated with kid gloves his first time with a guy either— and he hadn’t had someone looking out for him. The guy was hot and older, and Lance had wanted it.

It wasn’t a _ bad _ experience, but. It hadn’t been gentle.

So, no, Lance isn’t going to touch Keith _ exactly _ the way he would really like to— if Keith makes regular visits and is still interested, maybe they can work up to that— but he’s also not here to dictate what Keith is or isn’t ready for.

If Keith says he’s ready for more, Lance is ready to deliver.

Keith’s mouth is set in a defiant little pout, ready to argue. It is not intimidating but it is very cute.

“You sure?” Lance hoods his eyes and lets his voice drop low.

“_Yes_.”

Lance brushes back a piece of hair that’s fallen into Keith’s face, before resettling into a firm grip on his hips. “As you wish.”

Lance has Keith over on his back in a second, pinning him and hovering over him with a grin.

Keith gapes up at him, doesn’t even try to fight against him, which is probably for the best. Lance is a lover, not a fighter, and Keith looks scrappy.

But with his dick twitching in his sweats, Keith looks like putting up a fight is the furthest thing from his mind.

“Lance,” he sighs, tilting his head up for more kisses. God, Lance could listen to Keith say his name for the rest of his life.

Lance obliges him for a moment, dipping his tongue into Keith’s mouth in a filthy slide and nipping at his lip, harder than he would’ve dared before, tugging sharply before releasing.

Holy shit, Keith is _ into _ that. He chokes off his groan before Lance can really enjoy the sound, but the nails digging crescents into his shoulders and the helpless grind of his hips tell Lance all he needs to know.

He guides Keith to hook a leg over his hip, keeps their bodies pressed together tight and delicious, and starts a heavy, practiced roll of his hips that has Keith clawing sharper at his shoulders, head tilting back with that pretty throat on display. Lance doesn’t know if it’s instinct or an invitation, but either way the temptation to taste is too strong; he presses sucking kisses along his neck to his jaw, blood vessels bursting when he seals his lips and sucks, worrying the skin between his teeth until Keith is whimpering. Then he finds a new spot and does it again.

It’s been a while since Lance dry-humped and left trails of hickeys like a teenager; he’d forgotten how much he likes it, the way it feels desperate and new, and he’s definitely hard now but Keith’s erection against him is like _ steel _ , and Lance has the dizzying realization that for Keith this _ is _ that teenage experience, that he’ll hopefully look back on with the same fond nostalgia.

Lance is determined that he will.

His hips set a renewed pace that has Keith panting beneath him, jaw clenching against the moans that are trying to spill out. It’s probably not enough to get Lance off, but he suspects the same probably isn’t true for Keith. Heat erupts in his belly at the thought; he wants to make Keith come like this.

He noses his way up Keith’s neck to take his ear lobe between his teeth. “You’re so gorgeous, baby. You feelin’ good?”

Lance hides his chuckle in Keith’s hair when he nods emphatically. “Mm, that’s good. Me too.” He grips firmly onto Keith’s thigh, steadying them both. “Can you do something for me, baby?”

“Uh-huh…” Keith’s pulse pounds against Lance’s lips at his throat.

Lance slides an arm beneath Keith’s back, forcing an arch into his waist that eliminates whatever millimeters were still between them. “Want you to set the pace now. Grind against me and show me what feels good, yeah?”

“O-okay.”

Lance stills and it’s a moment before he feels the hesitant first thrust against him, then the second, smoother, as Keith figures out his own rhythm. It’s surprisingly fluid, more surprising when Keith grabs his hip and tugs him confidently into rolling in a counter-rhythm, the added friction sparking through them both. 

“Fuck, Keith,” Lance moans. “God. You’re so _ good _.”

“It’s good?” The breathy eagerness in Keith’s voice, the open desire to please, has Lance reconsidering whether or not he can come like this.

“It’s perfect baby, you’re perfect, such a good boy for me.”

Keith whines, hips stuttering hard, and Lance grins. Tonight is _ not _ the night for kink exploration, but it’s too good, too much for Lance to resist this one temptation.

“That good, kitten? You like being my good boy?”

Keith’s eyes are tightly closed, teeth digging cruelly into his lower lip as he nods again.

“Ah-ah, kitten.” Lance’s breath is hot against Keith’s skin in the cool air. “Tell me.”

Keith trembles beneath him. “I- like it.” 

He shouldn’t push, shouldn’t tease but…

“You like what, sweetheart?”

Keith’s brows draw together and he breathes heavily through his nose as Lance encourages his hips back to their earlier rhythm. 

Lance won’t push it any further— making sure Keith is comfortable and having a good time is first and foremost, but right as Lance is about to kiss him again and forget all about it, Keith turns his head to the side and with his face aflame says barely louder than a breath, “I- I like,” he shudders harder, “I like being your good boy.” 

“_Fuck._”

Lance has to suck another dark mark into Keith’s throat before he combusts. 

Their breaths sound loud and harsh in quiet night air, greedy hands and greedy mouths always seeking _ more. _

Lance can tell when Keith starts getting close, the way he can barely kiss through his panting, the erratic rhythm of his hips, and Lance is on fire with the thought of it. He stills himself to let Keith just take what he wants, settling his weight to make sure Keith gets the friction he needs to get there.

“Lance— Lance _ shit_, I can’t— you have to stop or I—”

“You’re the one still moving, baby,” Lance murmurs into his jaw. “I want you to though, I want you to come just like this, do you know how fucking sexy you look right now?”

“But I’m not, _ ah, _ I’m not ready to be done…”

“Oh sweetheart,” Lance coos, “You can put that thought right out of your gorgeous little head if you think I’m gonna be done with you just because you came once.”

“Oh, fuck—” Keith’s hips snap up with purpose and Lance holds still and let’s him. 

“That’s it, don’t fight it. Be a good boy now.”

Keith’s desperate, breathless little whine has that telltale coil of heat curling tighter in Lance’s own belly, but he shoves the feeling back.

“Come for me, kitten.”

“Lance, _ Lance oh—” _ Keith’s moonlit eyes drill into Lance’s, his mouth dropped open in helpless pleasure as every muscle in his body locks tight for one glorious, teetering second before the tension _ snaps. _

His eyes slam closed and a hand claps over his mouth as he jerks gracelessly against Lance’s body, his muffled moans loud and full even through his palm.

_ Fuck, _ Lance wants to hear him sing.

When Keith slumps back to the ground, Lance rolls off of him, wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close. Keith rolls easily into him, buries his face in his shoulder while he catches his breath and shudders from the aftershocks. Lance makes sure the blankets are tucked warm around Keith’s shoulders and rubs circles on his back. He hums softly, but otherwise remains quiet, lets Keith come down.

He feels Keith’s shoulders begin to shake and pulls back in alarm only to find Keith laughing, grin splitting his face and eyes bright as he looks up at Lance.

“Holy shit,” he says. “That was just...so hot.”

Lance chuckles. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. I kinda, uh, ruined your pants though.”

Lance grins. “_Totally _ worth the laundry I’m gonna have to do.”

Lance’s dick is still craving attention, and the thought of Keith’s come staining the front of his borrowed sweatpants makes him twitch. But he can wait.

Keith rolls his eyes, but he looks pleased. He burrows in closer to Lance, nose cold against his bare shoulder. “It’s cold as shit out here.”

“C’mon, then, let’s go in.” Reluctant as he is to let Keith out of his arms, it really is getting chillier than their body heat and blankets can stave off, even after pulling their shirts back on.

By the time they get the blankets dragged inside and their mugs dropped in the sink, their teeth are chattering and their toes and fingertips are like ice. At least it’s killed his erection.

“Th-this is ridiculous,” Lance complains, “Earlier it was w-warm enough to wear that tiny dress and n-now it’s too cold even with like five blankets? Unb-believable.”

“It _ w-wasn’t _ warm enough to wear that, you just l-leached my body heat the whole time.”

“Oh I’ll _ show _ you leaching body h-heat.” Lance shoves his frozen fingertips up Keith’s shirt to press against his warm belly, making him shriek and shove Lance off before immediately lunging back for him in retaliation, freezing cold hands firm on Lance’s back and holding tight, keeping him from struggling away.

“Ok!” Lance squeals, trying to wriggle away and having no success in Keith’s surprisingly strong arms. “Ok! I give!”

Keith releases him, eyeing him warily. “Truce?”

Lance raises both of his hands. “Truce, I promise. Want me to heat some tea and find some different blankets so we can try and warm up?”

“Actually…” Keith bites his lip. “I was kind of thinking a bath might be nice.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course, you’re more than welcome to it. I’ll still put the kettle on so you can have something warm when you’re done.” Keith is staring at him with a deadpan expression. “Or… unless you don’t, uh, like. Tea?”

Keith blinks at him, waiting.

“Oh. _ Oh._” The realization hits suddenly. “You didn’t mean alone.”

Keith smirks and Lance thinks maybe the cold wasn’t quite as effective at quelling his desire as he thought. 

“No, Lance. I didn’t mean alone.”

***

“Keith, _ ah, _ you know you don’t _ hah- _ have to do this…” Lance squirms, hot water lapping at him and porcelain warm at his back, Keith over him and sucking his own marks into Lance’s skin as he strokes a hand over Lance’s _ very _ hard cock.

“Oh, I know,” Keith purrs, and his voice is silky and dark and it’s _ doing things _ to Lance, “but the thing is,” he twists his wrist on the upstroke and Lance gasps, “is that I really, _ really _ want to. Do you want me to stop?”

God, Lance doesn’t know where this new, confident Keith came from but he is _ here _for it. “Fuck no. God, baby, don’t stop.”

Lance moans and drags his hand up Keith’s water-slick chest and back down over his belly, just feeling the give of him beneath his fingertips, only to find Keith already hard all over again. Lance doesn’t miss much about being nineteen but damn, that refractory period can’t be matched.

Lance goes to circle his hand around Keith but his hand gets brushed away. “Just let me focus on you,” Keith says. Then almost to himself, “You’re so big…” pleased and just awed enough that Lance can’t help the little tingle of smug pride that swirls in his belly.

“Thank you, baby,” Lance sighs. “That feels so good.” His dick throbs in Keith’s hand, and he’s reminded by the coil already starting to tighten in his gut that he didn’t get to come earlier.

Following orders, he contents himself with drawing his hands up and down the long smooth lines from Keith’s thighs to his ribs while Keith’s tongue delves into his mouth and his hand strokes him slow and tight.

“I need to ask you something,” Keith says against his lips.

“Mmn, yeah, go for it.”

Keith trails kisses across his cheek and jaw until his lips hover at his ear, the hot puffs of his breath making Lance shiver.

“If I make you come like this are you still gonna be able to fuck me later?”

Lance cock twitches hard and Keith laughs when he feels it. His pace doesn’t let up and suddenly Lance feels a lot closer to that edge than he did three seconds ago. To be the _ first _ one to sink into where Keith would be so tight and hot, split him open, make him moan, show him how _ good _ it can be—

“Fuck, _ Keith—” _

Keith picks up the pace and smiles at him like he’s hungry, and that is the exact opposite of what he needs if Keith wants him to hold it together.

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” Lance gasps, “whatever you want, yes, baby don’t stop—”

No hand job has ever made Lance feel so desperate.

Keith has all the power and he knows it, licking his lips like the cat that’s got the cream. Lance is losing it.

“You promise?”

“Keith…” Lance whines.

Keith ignores him. “Cuz I can’t let you come like this if it means you’re not gonna split me in half on your cock later.”

It’s too much.

“Keith, _ god _ you can’t— fuck, ah _ fuck, Keith—!” _Lance’s voice echoes against the tile walls as he pulses in Keith’s hand, shooting ropes of white into the water between them, abs clenching and fingers digging into the soft flesh of his lover’s thighs.

Keith strokes him through it, looking absolutely stunned, only letting go when Lance moans weakly and flaps a hand at him. He goes easily when Lance guides him in for a kiss, but retreats when Lance tries to deepen it and hold him closer.

“Sorry, I, uh,” Keith scratches the back of his neck, avoiding looking straight at Lance. “That was just. Like. The hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m like a breath away from going off. If you look at me too long I’ll probably come.” He chuckles sheepishly.

“You know that is kinda the whole point of the exercise,” Lance teases, but keeps his hands off.

Keith flicks a drop of water at him and starts the tub draining. “Yeah, but I have plans, and I don’t want them derailed just because my partner was too hot.”

Keith stands up in a cascade of water, and Lance’s mouth goes dry as a thick drop that’s too viscous to be water drips from the shining pink head.

“Yeah, I think I can relate,” he says faintly, rising and stepping onto the bathmat to reach towels for himself and Keith. “Speaking of, and please don’t take this as a criticism, but uh, _ where the hell _ did all that come from?”

Keith doesn’t even try to pretend that he doesn’t know what Lance is referring to. “Did you like it?” He’s got that bashful-pleased smile on again, cheeks pink even as he blatantly watches Lance dry himself off. 

This kid.

Lance glances meaningfully to where his come is sliding down the drain with the bath water. “I think you already know the answer to that. But yes. I did. A lot.” He shakes his head with an incredulous laugh. “Shocked the hell out of me but you’re definitely not gonna get any complaints from me.”

Keith shrugs, still smiling. “I just...I really liked it when you took control like that when we were outside. It made me feel really good, and I thought that maybe it was something you liked, too. Guess I was right.”

“Mhmm.” Lance eyes the self-satisfied little curl of Keith’s lips, and decides he deserves to be a little bit smug. “Guess you were.”

They finish drying in comfortable silence.

Lance tugs on his sweats from earlier and gathers the clothes from the floor. “I’m gonna get this laundry started. I’ll meet you in my bedroom?”

Keith’s eyes flash with excitement. “Sure.”

“You can cut on the space heater in the corner if it’s chilly, and I think there’s a robe on my desk chair if you want. Oh, and supplies are in the top drawer of my night stand if you want to go ahead and grab what we’ll need.”

“Mkay.” Keith adds his towel to the pile in Lance’s arms and steps on his tippy-toes to press a sweet close-mouthed kiss to his lips. “See you soon.” And then turns around to walk buck-ass naked down the hall to Lance’s room.

This fucking kid.

***

Keith looks up when the door clicks closed behind Lance and smiles sweet and innocent, like he’s not sprawled languidly across _ Lance’s _ bed with _ Lance’s _ robe hanging loosely off one shoulder and inching up his thighs, _ Lance’s _ lube and condoms beside him and _ Lance’s _ padded leather cuffs dangling from his fingertips. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Lance crosses his arms and leans against the door frame “Whatcha got there?”

Keith twirls the cuffs around a finger. “Uh, supplies? Like you said? You were _ very _ nonspecific, so I just grabbed what seemed like the necessities.”

“The necessities.”

Keith’s lips curl. “Mhmm.”

Lance pushes off the wall, shaking his head. “You really are something else, you know that?” He plucks the cuffs from Keith’s fingertips. “I’m not using these on you tonight.”

“But—” Keith pushes up onto his elbows, pout and protest at the ready.

“_But,_” Lance cuts it off with a finger to his lips, tossing the cuffs to the nightstand. 

“If you _ behave…” _

He slides onto the bed.

“If you’re _ real _ sweet…”

He leans in, breathing the words low and hot into Keith’s ear.

“If you show me what a _ good boy _ you can be for me…”

Keith sucks in a breath, and offers no resistance when Lance plants a palm to the center of his chest and bears him back down.

“Then maybe, the next time I’ve got you all pretty in my bed, I’ll tie you to my headboard and show you what other fun toys I’ve got hidden away. How’s that sound, baby?”

“G-good, _ fuck. _” 

“Mm, I’m planning on it.” 

Keith whines when Lance scrapes his teeth over the shell of his ear, his breaths already starting to come shallow, and if Lance hadn’t had an orgasm less than ten minutes ago he’d be tenting his sweatpants just as bad as Keith is in his robe.

Speaking of. 

He palms up Keith’s side, the satiny fabric warm beneath his fingertips. “You look so good in my clothes, been driving me crazy all night.” He plucks at the sash tied around Keith’s waist. “Think I’m ready to get you out of ‘em though, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith knocks Lance’s hands out of the way to undo the sash himself and wriggles out of the robe. Lance’s lips are on his before it even hits the floor.

They kiss and bite and lick, touching and squeezing until they’re both breathing heavy, panting into each other’s mouths. Keith tugs impatiently at Lance’s pants with a grumbled _ off _ against his lips— their bare legs twine together, and Lance’s dick is taking his refractory period like it’s a challenge.

Keith shifts and a moment later something cool and solid is pressed firmly into Lance’s hand.

He pulls back with a chuckle and sits back on his knees. “Eager?”

Beneath him, Keith is a vision with his silky black hair spread like a halo, lips kiss-swollen and red, cheeks pink and those dark, dark eyes that flicker with the memory of starlight, hooded and gazing up at him with loaded anticipation.

“Understatement.”

Keith obliges him to stare for a few more seconds before rolling his eyes with a smirk and nudging Lance with his foot. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Oh, wouldn’t he love to. Lance wants to commit this moment to memory forever. 

“Mm, don’t tempt me.”

“Then get on with it.”

“Alright, alright,” Lance concedes, snapping the open the cap on the lube bottle. “You said you wanted to bottom, right? Or did you want to try topping instead?”

“I— you don’t— I mean, you would let me top?” His shock would be funny if everything about him wasn’t so devastatingly sexy. 

“Well, yeah.”

“Oh.” Keith looks dumbfounded.

“...Do you want to?”

“I mean..._ yeah. _But. Are you sure you don’t want to?”

Lance has to try not to laugh. “Oh I _ definitely _want to. But Keith, baby, the only thing that really matters to me is that you have a good time. The logistics of it are totally up to you.”

Keith stares at him, indecision written all over his face.

“If it helps,” Lance says, “there’s no fine print or expiration date on this offer. You don’t lose your chance to top forever if you decide to bottom tonight, or vice versa. We don’t even have to have sex—”

“No!” Keith cheeks flush anew at his outburst. “I mean— I want to. Have sex. And you… you really want me to come back? You don’t even know if I’m bad at it yet.”

Keith frowns at Lance’s sharp burst of laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, just. Trust me, you’re not bad at it, okay? And of course I want you to come back, as long as _ you _ want to. I’ve had a really good time with you tonight.”

“I’ve had a good time too.” Keith bites his lip. “If it’s okay, I still think I want to, um, bottom. Tonight.”

“That is more than ok, sweetheart.” He runs a hand up and down one of Keith’s firm thighs that bracket his hips. “You ready?”

Keith takes a deep breath and nods, lets his legs fall further apart to give Lance room to work even as he throws an arm across his face to cover his blush.

Lance kindly doesn’t comment, only spreads the lube over his fingers and watches the slight tremble in Keith’s belly as he breathes. “It can feel a little weird at first, but it should never be painful, ok? If the stretch starts to hurt at any point, you tell me. We can take as long you need.”

Keith’s breath hitches as Lance starts circling the tight ring of muscle, just spreading the lube around. Before Lance can even tell him to, Keith takes a deep breath and lets his muscles relax. “Thanks but, um, you really don’t have to baby me through this part,” Keith says into his arm.

“I know, it’s just best to take this part slow at—”

“No, I know,” Keith chuckles. “I just mean, you _ really _ don’t have to baby me through this part. Take your time, but. This part isn’t new to me.”

Oh.

_ Oh. _

The image of Keith with his own fingers buried deep inside himself slams into Lance’s head like a brick, the thought of him on his back with his legs raised and trembling vying for attention against the image of him on his knees with his arm reached back, moaning and drooling into his pillow. Does he do it with his roommates asleep in the same room, desperately trying to keep quiet? How many fingers does he use? Does he use something _ besides _fingers? How big—?

He’s getting ahead of himself. Focus.

Lance is glad Keith still has his eyes covered. “A-ah. Understood. Still, tell me if anything hurts or feels bad, okay?”

“I will.”

Keith takes the first finger with a deep sigh, shifting his hips a few times as Lance slowly pumps it in and out. “Okay?”

“Yeah. You can do two.”

More lube, and Keith stretches around the second finger as Lance watches, entranced. A few moments to get used to the stretch, and Lance begins to crook his fingers, searching. 

“Ahh_ mmf—!” _

Keith’s arm drops from his face to quickly cover his mouth with his hand, the other hand clenched tight in Lance’s covers.

Bingo.

Lance continues to work that spot to the sound of muffled whimpers, soothing his free hand over Keith’s hip and thigh.

He wants to hear him moan.

“Can you let me hear you, sweetheart?” Lance murmurs. It takes Keith’s eyes a moment to flutter open, then another to focus on Lance. “You’re making all these pretty noises, but they’re all covered up. Can you let them out for me, baby?”

“I-It’s _ hah, _ embarrassing… m’ too loud if I don’t— _ nnngh—” _ Keith claps his hand back tight to his mouth as Lance starts stroking his cock in time with the movement of his fingers.

“It’s just you and me here, gorgeous. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. No one else can hear you and I think the sounds you make are so fucking sexy.” Lance can hear the roughness of arousal in his voice. “I think _ everything _ about you is sexy, driving me fucking _ crazy, _ baby.” 

“Re-really?”

“Mhm. You don’t have to hide anything from me, kitten, I already think you’re perfect.”

And fuck if that isn’t the goddamn truth.

“Lance, I…” Keith takes a shuddering breath and lets his hand fall to his side. “I think you’re perfect, too.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit this boy is actually going to kill him.

Keith’s walls squeeze tight when the third finger breaches him, and yeah, he wasn’t lying— kid is _ loud. _

The first stretch has him keening, then pitching into whimpering moans that test the limits of Lance’s self-control as he strokes him and fucks him on his fingers. “_ God, _ that’s it baby, you sound so good like this, being such a good boy and letting me hear you.”

“_ Shit— _ ah, ah, _ hnng— _ fuck Lance, _ Lance _ please you gotta, you gotta stop or I— Lance I’m gonna come, _ fuck—” _ Keith’s hand flails blindly across the covers until he finds what he’s looking for, shoving the square of foil into Lance’s chest. “Fuck me.”

“Are you sure?” Lance has to ask for his own peace of mind, but he’s already wiping his fingers off and tearing the packet open. Keith isn’t the only one desperate.

“_Yes,” _ Keith hisses, spreading his trembling legs even further, breaths coming short as Lance rolls the condom on and strokes lube over himself.

“Ready?”

“Lance I swear to fucking Christ if you ask me if I’m— _ ohh f-fuck...” _

“_Ah, _ yeah, have to agree with you there.” Lance can hear the strain in his own voice— he’s barely pushed in but Keith is like heaven around him, soft and hot and impossibly tight. “You okay? Does it hurt?”

Keith’s eyes are clenched shut, hands fisted in the covers. “I- kinda? Yes, but it- it’s good, I’m good just need you to move, need you deeper Lance, please, oh god oh god _ oh god Lance!” _

“God yes,” Lance groans, burying his cock a little further inside Keith’s clenching body with each gentle thrust. “You feel so good on me baby, so fucking _ tight, _ shit. Keith, _ Keith, _ baby, look at me.”

Keith’s eyes are dizzy galaxies when they blink open and Lance has to kiss him, has to lean forward to capture his lips in a sloppy, graceless kiss that burns up his spine, that last forward thrust seating him as deeply inside Keith’s body as he can go while Keith moans into his mouth.

Lance pauses there, means to pull back to check in on Keith but a fist buries tight in his hair, keeping their mouths crushed together. “Don’t you _ dare _stop moving,” Keith growls against his lips.

“Mm, yes _ sir.” _

The slow, gentle rhythm Lance attempts quickly devolves when Keith buries his heels into his back and rolls his hips up to meet him. It’s immediately apparent that Keith can’t focus on kissing and fucking at the same time— curses mixed with Lance’s name fall from his lips on gasping moans, throat bared and head tossed back as he cries out.

The little twinge of self-satisfaction Lance feels is wholly eclipsed by awe at the lovely creature beneath him, humbled that he gets to have this, that Keith would let him see him with his walls down, so unreserved and unguarded and _ so _fucking beautiful.

Then Keith’s moans start to change pitch and Lance stops thinking anything at all.

Lance grunts as his hips snap forward, holding Keith’s hips in place while Keith’s thighs crush against his ribs.

Keith’s walls start to clench around him, his cock leaking a sticky trail onto his belly. “_ Ah, _ right there, right there,” Keith whines, tongue darting out to wet his reddened lips, “fuck Lance don’t stop, please, I’m close, _ oh, _ I need… I need...” 

“What is it, baby? Anything, I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I- I…”

“C’mon, beautiful.” Lance nips at his ear. “Tell me what’ll make you come.”

“C-can you, um, p-pull my hair and tell me, _ ah, _ tell me I—”

The heat building between Lance’s hips feels molten.

He curls a fist roughly in damp black hair, squeezing until Keith’s voice cracks on a moan.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Lance noses up Keith’s sweaty throat. “You want me to tell you what a _ good boy _ you’re being for me? Is that what you’re asking for? Tell me.”

“P-please…”

“You are, you’re -_ fuck- _ being so good, feel so good on me, you have no idea. Touch your cock baby, wanna watch you come all over yourself.”

“Oh, oh fuck…close—!”

Lance uses his grip in Keith’s hair to tilt his head up. “Open your eyes, Keith. Look at me. Now be a good boy and _ come_.”

It only takes a few more strokes and Keith’s body is locking up, face crumpling in pleasure, eyes fluttering but staying locked on Lance’s as he shakes and moans through his orgasm. His walls pulse and clench on Lance’s cock as he spurts thick white streaks up his belly and chest, and that’s it for Lance.

“Shit, _ Keith, _ fuck I’m gonna come, oh _ fuck—! _”

Lance buries his face in Keith’s neck as he spills into the condom, feeling like it goes on forever as his hips drive abortive little thrusts into Keith’s clinging body as they tremble through the aftershocks.

Lance pulls out and falls to the side with a groan, gathering Keith to him before either of them has even had a chance to catch their breath. Keith’s arms lock around Lance just as tight, nuzzling into him as Lance presses kisses and praise into Keith’s hair.

Eventually, their breathing slows, Keith’s arms gone slack around Lance’s waist.

“Hey,” Lance says. When Keith doesn’t answer after a moment he pulls back, only to find Keith’s face already lax with sleep. He stifles a chuckle and extricates himself to toss the condom and find a warm washcloth.

Keith doesn’t budge while Lance wipes him off, only grumbling awake when Lance insists they sleep _ under _ the covers.

Lance settles next to him and Keith is in his space before he can even pull him in. He presses dreamy kisses into Lance’s collarbone, tucking his head under his chin and huffing a deep sigh.

“You good?” Lance whispers, glad Keith can’t see the stupid smile on his face.

“So good,” Keith mumbles into his shoulder. “Best ever.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Keith hums and squirms somehow closer, already asleep when Lance drops a kiss to his forehead.

***

_ hey u forgot smth here _

_ guess u’ll hav 2 come back _

_ ;) _

**Why do you text like this?**

_ txt lik wat?? _

_ u didnt ask wat u left _

_ :/ _

**Oh my god. What Lance? What did i leave?**

**If you say ‘me’ i stg i will delete your number**

_ :/ _

**Lance.**

_ [multimedia message downloading...] _

_ they look better on u but… _

**The pic won’t download**

**I think it’ll download better if you take your shirt off**

**Keep the ears on tho**

_ [multimedia message downloading...] _

_ [multimedia message downloading...] _

_ [multimedia message downloading...] _

**OMG OK OK STOP**

**i said your SHIRT jfc**

**Shiro is looking at me weird**

_ awww r u blushing?? :3 _

_ wait r u in town??? _

**Lol no, shiro is visiting me at school**

**Also I asked him why i even like you and he said he doesnt know**

_ so u R blushing _

_ send me a pic? _

**Ugh**

**What do i get in return?**

_ [multimedia message downloading...] _

_ ;) _

**You’re a monster.**

** _[multimedia message downloading...]_ **

_ ur so cute… _

_ the only way u cld b cuter is if u had some kitty cat ears… _

_ but u dont… tragic… _

**I can drive down next weekend**

_ !!!!!! _

**But only so i can get my ears back**

_ ya of course _

_ n while ur gettin ur ears back ill take u 2 my fav restaurant_

_ n hold ur hand n kiss u a lot _

_ as bros obvsly _

**Lol obviously.**

**Hey Lance?**

_ ya bby? _

**I’m really excited to see you again.**

**Shiro keeps making fun of me**

**He keeps saying that he didnt know my face knew how to smile**

_ ya its cuz ur a broody emo kid _

_ n im srry but if u want me 2 fight shiro ur on ur own babe. dudes built like a brick shithouse n ur about 2 put a tank into his arm so. _

_ but honestly I’m super excited to see you too, keith. _

_ is it stupid to say i miss you? _

**Maybe? Probably?**

**Idc i miss you too.**

**Shit I g2g, shiro learned how to burn grilled cheese**

_ lmao good luck w that _

_ ttyl :) _

**Ttyl <3**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, let me know with a kudos or comment. Getting feedback means the world to me, and helps inspire me to write more! <3


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